1
The Projection of Performativity:
A Theoretical Feminist Approach to William Wordsworth’s “The Solitary Reaper”
2
Abstract
This paper offers a theoretical feminist approach to William Wordsworth’s poem “The Solitary
Reaper” by reading the poem alongside Judith Butler’s theory of gender performativity. It argues
that the poem’s speaker projects a specific performance upon the solitary reaper through his
interpretation of her song. From a musicological standpoint, with particular attention to James
Donelan’s book Poetry and the Romantic Musical Aesthetic, the essay focuses specifically on the
function of the solitary reaper’s song within the poem. By arguing that the audible song of the
solitary reaper is a form of labor, and that the body of the solitary reaper is, thus, a labored
subject, the essay argues that the figure of the solitary reaper is a receptacle for the speaker’s
idealized projections of femininity. Rather than offer a redemptive reading of Wordsworth’s
treatment of female characters, the essay offers a critique of the representation of the solitary
reaper through the lens of feminist and gender theory.
Key Terms: Projection, Gender Performativity, Judith Butler, Feminine Idealization, Labor
3
Recent feminist scholarship has critiqued the simplistic representation of female
characters in William Wordsworth’s poetry. While at first Wordsworth’s representations of
gender appear to be reductionist at best, feminist scholars have introduced a more complex
reading of Wordsworth’s conception of women. Most notably, in her book Wordsworth and the
Cultivation of Women, Judith W. Page suggests that Wordsworth’s relationship to the feminine be
considered in light of the female relationships in his personal life.1 Page argues for a reading that
claims Wordsworth’s portrayal of women during different poetic moments reflects the various
female relationships in his life. She also recommends a resistance to reading Wordsworth as
either idealizing or marginalizing female characters. Rather, Page argues that Wordsworth’s
portrayal of female characters reflects his shift from theorizing about the egotism of the sublime
to considering the communal aesthetics of the beautiful.2 Page relates the presence of peripheral
feminine characters in some of his most well known poems, such as “The Solitary Reaper,” to
Wordsworth’s association of the beautiful with scenes of feminine domesticity.
While Page offers a compelling reading of female characters in Wordsworth’s poetry,
Sonia Hofkosh, a reviewer of Page’s work, suggests that Page’s reading is, perhaps, too much of a
strain even for the sympathetic reader. While Page herself acknowledges that such a forgiving
reading cannot explain away the more problematic aspects of Wordsworth’s work, Hofkosh
critiques Page’s work as being too much of a reclamation project. Hofkosh argues that Page’s
work suggests readers exert themselves in order to love Wordsworth, and that the amount of
work that is required to conduct such a reading is counterintuitive to the very purpose of Page’s
project. Thus, while Hofkosh acknowledges the nuances of Page’s argument in connecting
Wordsworth the poet to the realm of the feminine, she critiques the exertion required in
recuperating feminist empathy for Wordsworth.
4
In the specific context of “The Solitary Reaper,” James Donelan’s book Poetry and the
Romantic Musical Aesthetic is especially useful.3 Donelan’s reading of the solitary reaper’s song in a
musicological context complicates both Page’s argument and Hofkosh’s critique of it. If the
recuperative project that Page undergoes is too straining, as Hofkosh seems to suggest, Donelan’s
reading of the solitary reaper’s song complicates the idea that Wordsworth’s poetic
representations of women directly correlate with his personal relations. Donelan argues that the
speaker’s comparison of the solitary reaper’s intelligible song to the songs of birds places her
within a greater cultural context, rather than dehumanizing her.4 If this argument is read in
relation to Page’s theory, however, the intelligibility of the reaper’s song is, perhaps,
Wordsworth’s inability to relate directly to certain notions of the feminine at the moment of the
poem’s conception. Perhaps, then, it is useful to place the respective musicological and feminist
readings into conversation with one another.
Even though there is practical application in reading Donelan and Page’s readings in an
intersectional context, both readings can be further complicated by being grounded in feminist
theory. In the specific context of “The Solitary Reaper,” the projection of feminine embodiment
upon the reaper, as well as the specific conveyance of her gendered embodiment, can be further
explored through Judith Butler’s theory of gender performativity.5 Butler argues that through the
repetition of theatrical, stylized acts, gendered bodies are created. Thus, gender does not
presuppose bodies and there is no true “gendered essence,” but rather it is birthed through a
series of repetitive “performances.” Additionally, Butler conceives of the body as in constant
motion towards gender embodiment. For Butler, bodies are receptacles that become gendered
through acts. Thus, to place Page and Butler into conversation, the solitary reaper performs the
poet’s relationship to the feminine. If the female characters reflect Wordsworth’s actual
experiences, then it is the manifestation of his contextual perception of women that the solitary
5
reaper performs. In relation to Donelan’s analysis of the solitary reaper’s song, her song is a
performance of the poet’s perception of her, rather than oneness with a higher culture. While it
may be symbolically linked to a larger community, it is only conveyed through the speaker’s
interpretation of it. When read through the theoretical feminist lenses of gender performativity
and projection, the solitary reaper is not only embodied through the poet speaker’s relation to the
feminine, but also through the speaker’s literal analysis of her song.
The poem begins with the command to “behold” the woman in the field, with a certain
ambiguity as to whom the admonition is directed. While Donelan references Geoffrey Hartman’s
theory that the invocation to “behold” demands a certain moment of self-conscious reflection, it
is also a command to visibly consume the woman in the field.6 Through the demand to “behold,”
there is the assumption that the woman has something to offer the traveler, which gives her a
sense of agency. However, the admonition to look at her, rather than interact with her, positions
her as somewhat immobile. Her position as a “solitary” creature means that she is the focal
object of the field, rather than the field itself. If she is the only creature in the field, why is it
necessary for the speaker to admonish the traveler to “behold?” Would this not be a natural
reaction if she were the only one in the field? The speaker calls attention to the performative
aspect of the solitary reaper’s work, and she becomes hyper-performative. For Butler, gendered
performances are enmeshed in discourses of cultural recognition, and, thus, there are very real
consequences for performing gender “incorrectly.”7 A Butlerian reading would suggest that there
is a resonant symbolic meaning of the solitary reaper’s performance for the speaker, which may
involve a heightened perception of what is actually taking place. If the speaker projects an aura of
performance onto the woman, then her actions not only become gendered, but also implicated in
the process of her movement towards embodiment.
6
The solitary reaper’s actions are both generative (“reaping”) and performative (“singing”).
Both, however, are in the service of the male speaker. As his is the only account given, there is no
other vantage point from which the woman’s actions are interpreted. In order for the solitude to
be interpreted as an oasis away from culture where the poet can be joined with an unknown,
soothing song, the woman must be isolated. In order for him to project his perception of her onto
her body, there must not be any other figures present who would possibly complicate this
narrative. The woman must be alone in the field in order for the speaker to interpret the specific
tone of her individual song. It must be a singular song, for if there were multiple reapers her
specific intonation would be indistinguishable. While the speaker presents her tone as objectively
melancholy, he projects her performativity. The interpretation of her tone as “melancholy” relies
upon the speaker’s own musical knowledge. Since the speaker cannot interpret her words, he can
only interpret her tone. As there seems to be a cultural boundary between the speaker and the
solitary reaper, is it to be inferred that the perceived tone of her song aligns with her actual
words? Or, perhaps more provocatively, does the speaker not have access to the words she is
singing because his idealized image of her does not align with reality? Clearly, a disparity
between tone and the meaning of content is not accounted for. While there is an expectation that
the speaker is correct in assuming it to be melancholy, it is a rather essentialist assumption
considering the cultural and linguistic barriers between the two characters. In this sense, then,
projection and performativity are closely linked, as what the speaker infers the reaper’s song to be
(a melancholy tale), is based on his interpretation of her embodied performance.
While Page argues that there is a feminization in Wordsworth’s paradigmatic shift from
considering the sublime in solitude to notions of the beautiful expansively, thus encouraging
representations of communities of women, the solitary reaper is not located within a larger
community. Rather, it is her song alone that makes the vale “[overflow] with the sound.”8 If
7
Wordsworth’s purpose in isolating the solitary reaper is to implicitly connect her to a vast,
universal “feminine” community, then perhaps her song is representative of a communal melody.
However, it seems more likely that the woman is on a makeshift, interpretive stage in the middle
of the vale, filling the surroundings with her song. While her song appears to be a byproduct of
her labor to help the time pass more quickly, which offers her some autonomy in the situation,
she is still tasked with having a song that will be heard throughout the vale. Were the song to be
removed from the solitary reaper, the speaker likely would not have noticed her in the field, or at
least not have had some poetic recollection of the experience. Arguably, then, it is the song itself
that facilitates her embodiment. Without the song, an exotic offering to the traveler, the reaper
would simply be a disembodied figure, performing a traditionally feminine task. It is her song
that distinguishes her from the natural backdrop, even in her construction as a pseudo-natural,
mythical figure.
In his analysis of the song, Donelan observes that it is compared to various bird songs that
welcome scenes of hope.9 He draws attention to the inarticulate cries of the nightingale and
cuckoo-bird, and suggests that the potency of their respective cries is in what they signify, rather
than any articulate message.10 Similarly, he argues that the song of the solitary reaper can be
read symbolically in terms of how the poet interprets it, rather than literally. From a critical
feminist perspective, this is a bit of a sympathetic reading. While from a musicological standpoint
this theory is weighty and has significance in being applied to a more nuanced feminist reading, it
does not account for the projection of the male character’s particular gendered sensibilities onto
the solitary reaper. In the speaker’s comparison between her song and the enigmatic songs of
other birds, it is evident that his comparisons are rooted in notions of the sublime. In his inability
to articulate the words of the nightingale or the cuckoo-bird, and especially the words of the
solitary reaper, he concludes that her act must be one of sublimity. However, the speaker’s
8
unwillingness to understand or articulate the meaning of the reaper’s song further marginalizes
her. While there obviously may not have been space for interpretation, there is a certain
mysticism in associating her song with the songs of birds. Such a strong attachment to the natural
world does dehumanize her, as Donelan partially refutes, for Wordsworth’s female figures tend to
exist in a liminal space between human and creature.11 Thus, in aligning her with the sublime
songs of birds, she becomes more creatural than human. Rather than his privileging of her songs
above the birds being a compliment, it further marginalizes her as the most direct comparison is
to creatures that lack the potential for articulation. In completely removing her potential for
articulation, and, indeed, her very articulation of language in the song, the speaker further
separates her as a being far removed from humanity.
While there is certain usefulness in reading the solitary reaper’s song as a moment of
escapism for the traveler, it is dangerous to assume that the speaker maintains her both as part of
the natural world and distinctly human.12 Rather than saying that she is most certainly both,
there is evidence suggesting that she is neither. Perhaps it is safer to say that she is not quite
creature, yet not quite human, and thus exists in a hyper-natural world. This scene cannot be
read as merely a field in which a woman is reaping; there is too much poetic mysticism for this to
be the case. Not only does the image of a woman singing a foreign song in a field hearken to a
trope in traditional fairytales, but there is also something rather haunting about the image.
Somehow, distance is maintained between her as the object of the speaker’s gaze and the speaker
himself. He does not approach her, but simply observes from afar. The speaker most notably
projects his notion of her own femininity onto her in the third stanza:
Will no one tell me what she sings?
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
9
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of today?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again!13
When the words of the solitary reaper’s song are not translated to him, the speaker immediately
begins to project what they may be. While perhaps a natural speculation of the imagination, it is
problematic from a critical feminist perspective. There is a hurriedness in the speakers desire to
be told what she sings, and no explicit moment of waiting for a reply. Thus, as soon as he
rhetorically questions whether or not someone will tell him what she is singing, he immediately
begins to interpret the song himself. Through his interpretation, he applies his own set of cultural
knowledge to a situation entirely foreign to him. While it is all speculation, which he exhibits by
framing his musings with “perhaps,” he is audibly expressing thought, or at least internally
ruminating upon such questions. Thus, while he is speculating as to what the song may be about,
he has ceased to listen to the song. If the song is such a sublime experience for the speaker, how is
it that he detracts from the sublimity of the song by looking to interpret its meaning? This does
not appear to be a poem composed upon recollection, but rather a musing fixed directly in the
moment. How is it, then, that the speaker has words to speak if this is such a sublime experience?
Should he not be rendered speechless? Perhaps in being overcome with awe, and being troubled
by the object inspiring the awe, the speaker’s reaction to his complete lack of comprehension is
over-articulation.
Perhaps the speaker’s interpretation of the reaper’s song as melancholic can be attributed
to the deathlike quality of the act of reaping. The speaker wonders whether it is a melody about
“old, unhappy, far-off things, /and battles long ago,” or “some humble lay, / familiar matter of
10
today? / Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, / That has been, and may be again!”14 The
speculated content of the song is divided between grand, past sorrows (“far-off things” and
“battles”) and a more current “natural” sorrow. The binary set up between past and present,
catastrophic and “natural” sorrow, specifically confines the potential meaning of the reaper’s
song. There is no other option but for it to be grandiosely sorrowful, or at least tinged with
sadness. If the speaker guides the solitary reaper towards gendered embodiment, rather than the
reaper fully inhabiting her body, then the depicted scene is a contrived performance based on the
speaker’s own projection. If, in the truest sense of Judith Butler’s theory of performativity, one
comes to shape one’s own gendered subjectivity, which accounts both for internal and external
forces acting upon the body, then the solitary reaper is restricted from autonomously inhabiting
an embodied self.15 Rather, the speaker shapes the reaper’s embodiment through his own
projection of her performativity. If, to follow the dominant feminist theory of gender
constructivism, then the solitary reaper never truly comes to inhabit her body as a gendered
space.16 Instead, she is essentialized according to her appearance as female, even though she is
not entirely human. It seems, then, that the speaker makes her human enough to be interpreted
by his own set of ideals, but creatural enough to be denied access to conscious decision-making
processes, and, thus, modes of resistance.
There is a cyclical nature to the speaker’s conception of sorrow that appears to trace a
natural trajectory of the course of sorrow, yet still only limits the reaper to songs of sorrow. While
the speaker makes reference to various conceptions of sorrow, there is a performative aspect to
his ruminations. If the solitary reaper is a “performer” of sorrow, then her gendered embodiment
will always already be couched within the parameters set forth by the speaker. In the context of
this argument, then, the solitary reaper can never access true self-directed embodiment. Rather,
as a character of projected performance, she can only ever manifest the speaker’s masculine
11
ideals of feminine embodiment. Even as the speaker projects embodiment onto her, it is still in
the context of performance. Thus, embodiment is made inaccessible to the reaper through the
very linear interpretation of her “performance.” Not only does she abide according to the
speaker’s conception of her physical location, but also in her literal “performance” of the
incomprehensible song. The song is thus the ultimate representation of an approximation to
gendered embodiment. It is only through the intelligibility of the song that the speaker is able to
shape her gendered embodiment.
If until the last stanza the solitary reaper has been offered a certain sense of “ungendered
humanity,” the speaker very clearly genders her in his final address:
Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sung
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o’er the sickle bending;
I listen’d till I had my fill:
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.17
While concluding that the theme of the song is ultimately of little consequence, as the speaker has
gleaned from it what he desires, the reaper becomes the “Maiden.” If Wordsworth has been
redeemed through a sympathetic reading of the poem, as Page’s approach suggests, it is the
speaker’s shift to referring to the reaper as a maiden that most obviously genders her. While a
lack of overt feminization in the first three stanzas has set the stage for the final stanza’s explicit
gendering of the solitary reaper, the speaker most clearly projects a keen gendered embodiment
upon her in the final lines of the poem. Notably, his address of her as a “Maiden” comes after the
12
intelligibility of her song. The speaker only comes to conceive of her as a maiden after he has
unsuccessfully sought to decipher her song. It is through the illegibility of the solitary reaper’s
song that she is labeled “Maiden.” If, according to Butler’s theory of gender performativity, one
comes to inhabit a gendered body through the repetition of theatrical, stylized acts, then the
repetition of the speaker’s acknowledgement of his inability to decipher the meaning of the
reaper’s song genders her as “Maiden.” Rather than the repetition of stylized acts on her part, it
is the speaker’s projection of stylized acts upon her that most clearly genders her female. Arguably,
though, as her embodiment is only made possible through projection, she remains a disembodied
figure even in her assumed femininity.
In this final stanza, Donelan argues, “From the perspective of the speaker, [the solitary
reaper’s] song has become absolute music, pure sound free from the constraints of denotation
and narrative.”18 In joining the finite nature of human life with the cyclical processes of nature,
Donelan argues that the speaker connects nature and humanity through a complex
understanding of the function of the reaper’s song.19 However, while the song may have become
“absolute music” for the speaker free from the burden of narrative verbal meaning, it does not
render the actual meaning of the song insignificant. This is, perhaps, the most concerning stanza
of the poem from a critical feminist perspective, as the speaker’s interpretation of her song as
“pure music” depends upon his lack of comprehension of it. The speaker’s ability to interpret the
song as “pure music” requires his denial of any form of overt cultural meaning the song may
ostensibly have. In his lack of understanding, the speaker reinscribes the reaper as lacking agency
over her own embodiment. Thus, the song is only “free from the constraints of denotation and
narrative” because of the speaker’s appropriation of his own knowledge to the situation. In
applying what he perceives as tangible and comprehensible to the situation, he positions her as
intangible and incomprehensible. Through the championing of his own system of knowledge
13
above hers, the speaker positions himself as advantageously placed within the hierarchy of
observer and object. As she is defined through his gaze, the perceived purity of the music is only
made possible through the linguistic separation between him and the reaper.
A Butlerian reading of the cyclical nature of the reaper’s song would interpret it in the
following way: Through the repeated, “theatrical” performance of mundane activities (reaping),
the reaper comes to embody a very specific identity.20 It is through the repetition of her song, or
the speaker’s imagination of its repetition, that the reaper’s identity is sustained. The speaker
states that he “saw her singing at her work,” interpreting her song as performance. In his visual
consumption of her body, and audible consumption of her song, the speaker shapes the reaper as
performer. As he is the one who sees her performing, he has complete control over the
performative nature of her identity. Butler argues that the body does not exist apart from its
gendered identity, and, similarly, the reaper cannot exist apart from her song. If her song is the
embodiment of her identity, then were she to be silent, her identity would not be forged through
performance. The speaker describes her as constantly singing, yet were she to cease from singing
at any point, what would happen to his perception of her? Would she instantly become either
fully human or fully creature? Does the never-ending nature of her song place her within a
liminal space between human and creature? It is unclear as to how the speaker conceives of her
identity. While it is decidedly human in his reference to her as “Maiden,” the process by which
the speaker arrives at this identity is complex. In his understanding of her as both human and
creature, she cannot be fully human even in his explication of her as “Maiden.”
While the reaper’s physical work can be read in terms of Wordsworth’s shift from a
solitary investment in the sublime to a communal conception of the beautiful, it is also useful to
deconstruct the conception of the reaper’s worker body. In the “feminization” of Wordsworth’s
understanding of the beautiful, Page argues that there is a movement towards a placement of
14
women within a communal setting.21 However, the entire poem can also be read as a movement
towards the feminization of the solitary reaper’s worker body. If the poem begins with her as
merely a “worker,” she is clearly feminized by the end in the specification of her as “Maiden.”
While perhaps the song also belongs to her, it is the work that is most clearly explicated as
“hers.”22 If the work belongs to her, the sickle does not. The speaker sees her “singing at her
work,” yet over “the sickle” bending.23 If the sickle, symbolic of death, does not belong to the
reaper, then the work she has control over detaches her from any symbolic associations with
death. Thus, if the reaper’s song is truly melancholy yet the sickle is not explicitly hers, she is
separated from the process of production. In a Marxist sense, the reaper can be read as being
separated from the means of production, even though she is the sole worker. As the work belongs
to her, and not the instrument of work, she is disembodied from the act of reaping. While the
speaker reads her in productive terms (singing, which he is able to enjoy, and reaping, a
productive activity) she does not hold much control over the means of production or the product
itself. Even though the focus is notably on her and not the product of her labors, her body cannot
be separated from her labor. In the specification of her as the solitary reaper, her worker identity
as reaper is intrinsic to the speaker’s conception of her identity. As she is not given a proper
name, her identity is created through the literal action of her body. If her body implicates her as
worker, then her song is also a labor.
There is an overt feminization of the reaper’s worker body that cannot be separated from
her song. Thus, while Donelan aptly argues for the transcendental natural qualities of her song,
this cannot be read apart from the obvious labor of her body. While Donelan argues that the
reaper’s song is a “working song,” and that as the “singer works as she sings,” the poet also
“speaks while in the middle of his tour of Scotland,” it reduces the labored body of the reaper
simply to that of singer.24 She is not simply a singer; rather, her identity is forged through the
15
relation between her song and the physical labor of her body. To historicize the comparison
between the poet and reaper is important, yet it seems to place the poet and reaper on equal
footing. Perhaps the words of the poet can implicitly be read as a labor, but it is not explicated as
a physical, bodily labor. Thus, to make the comparison between the song of the reaper and the
words of the poet is to oversimplify the working body of the reaper. The comparison works if the
poet is explicitly defined as a working body, but to assume poetry as a labor is to offer a
sympathetic reading in comparison to the very overt labored reaper body.
The speaker further projects his own idealized fantasies onto the reaper in his ability to be
filled with her music, yet have the option to leave the space of her work on his own accord:
I listen’d till I had my fill:
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.25
While Wordsworth tends to “other” his female characters through a placement of them in
separate, wilderness spaces, the male speaker is given the power to glean from the space what he
will, and then depart from it.26 In “The Rape of the Rural Muse,” Nancy A. Jones argues that
Wordsworth’s comparison of the solitary reaper to various birds is a form of rape, and, similarly,
the argument can be applied to the speaker’s ability to pillage the scene for the sake of his own
poetic sensibilities. In essence, the speaker’s easy movement in and out of the rural scene is a
simulated rape; he gleans what he desires from the reaper through a subjective interpretation of
her song, and then leaves with what he has taken from her. Ultimately, he has taken from her
any true meaning of the song. While she may, perhaps, retain the original meaning of the song
for herself, the extraction of speculative meaning is a form of rape. As an exaction of power, the
speaker not only fails to entertain any possible meaning of the song outside of his own perception,
16
but also reduces the space in which the reaper dwells to a poetic tourist destination. Thus, the
poet is able to enter the rural space as a poetic tourist, without the intention of remaining there.
Perhaps, then, the real “rape of the rural muse” is not in likening her song to the songs of birds,
but in the actual removal of her song from the wilderness space. The speaker takes the meaning
he has created with him, while leaving the actual song behind him. Maybe this is due, in part, to
his supposed position as a poet (thus, entitled to interpretation), yet there is a removal of the
product itself (interpretation) from the means of production (both the song itself and the body of
the reaper). Thus, the reaper’s song is immortalized through the speaker’s memory of it. He
disembodies the song by removing it from the literal body of the reaper, thereby forever
cementing her as a figure, lone and working, in a voyeuristic field.
The redemptive projects of both Judith W. Page and James Donelan offer critical insights
into the workings of “The Solitary Reaper,” and, when placed into conversation with Judith
Butler’s theory of gender performativity, provide nuanced analyses of the solitary reaper’s literal
and figurative location. From a critical feminist perspective, however, the entire poem can be
read as the poet speaker’s idealized projection of the reaper’s performative femininity. Rather
than portraying a body autonomously working towards gender embodiment, the body of the
solitary reaper is manipulated as a site for the speaker’s idealized visions of femininity. In relation
to Nancy A. Jones’ work, it is the rape of the reaper’s song that leads to her ultimate
disembodiment. Through this theoretical lens, the solitary reaper is not only a site upon which
the speaker’s anxieties are placed, but also a body fashioned by the male gaze. As the speaker
interprets her body and song, the solitary reaper is really the creation of his own imagination.
Through artful projection, the speaker forces his own notions of performative femininity onto the
solitary reaper, thus positioning her gendered, bodily identity as intrinsically bound to the
movement of her body and tonality of her song.
17
Notes:
1 Page,
Judith W. Wordsworth and the Cultivation of Women. Berkeley, CA: University of California
Press, 1994.
2 Page
discusses the feminization of Wordsworth’s poetic aesthetic reflected in his shift from a
focus on the solipsistic sublime to a communal understanding of the beautiful. 3 Donelan,
James H. "Nature, Music, and the Imagination in Wordsworth's Poetry." In Poetry and
the Romantic Musical Aesthetic, 206-214. New York City: Cambridge University Press, 2008.
4 Jones,
Nancy A. “The Rape of the Rural Muse: Wordsworth’s ‘The Solitary Reaper’” in Rape
and Representation, ed. Lynn A. Higgins and Brenda R. Silver, 263-277. New York:
Columbia University Press, 1991. Donelan references Jones’ work, in which she argues
that the comparisons made between the reaper and nature are a form of “rape,” rather than a
reification of the reaper’s privileged position in the natural world.
5 Butler,
Judith. "Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and
Feminist Theory." In Feminist Theory Reader, edited by Carole R. McCann and SeungKyung Kim, 462-73. New York City: Routledge, 2013.
6
“Geoffrey Hartman reads these apostrophes as a variation on epitaphs that ask the passing
traveler to stop and consider his mortality through the brief cautionary tale of the person buried
beneath the tombstone; this pause in the journey establishes a moment of self-conscious
reflection” (Donelan 207-208).
7 “Performing
one’s gender wrong initiates a set of punishments, both obvious and indirect, and
performing it well provides the reassurance that there is an essentialism of gender identity after
all. That this reassurance is so easily displaced by anxiety, that culture so readily punishes or
marginalizes those who fail to perform the illusion of gender essentialism, should be sign enough
that, on some level, there is social knowledge that the truth or falsity of gender is only socially
compelled and in no sense ontologically necessitated” (Butler 470). 8 “O
listen! for the Vale profound/Is overflowing with the sound” (lines 7-8)
9 “The
stanza spans the widest extremes possible, from the nightingale in the Arabian desert to
the cuckoo in the Hebrides off the coast of Scotland. In both cases, the birds do not produce
18
articulate words, but natural cries which acquire meaning through the poet’s interpretation of
their context” (Donelan 209). 10 “This
ambiguity reflects Wordsworth’s desire to find a spring of hope after a long winter of
mourning as well; travel and time have long been known to ease sorrow. Although both bird
songs communicate welcome news to their listeners, neither is a message in words; they are
merely sounds that accompany welcome natural events” (Donelan 209). 11 See
the “Lucy Poems” 12 “The
reaper is both part of the natural landscape and clearly human; by keeping the
denotative content of her song at a distance, Wordsworth emphasizes the connection between the
sensuous enjoyment of the natural landscape and that of musical material” (Donelan 210-211).
13 (Lines
17-24) 14 Stanza
15
4, lines 19-24 Butler argues, “The body is not merely matter, but a continual and incessant materializing of
possibilities. One is not simply a body, but, in some very key sense, one does one’s body, and,
indeed, one does one’s body differently from one’s contemporaries and from one’s embodied
predecessors and successors as well” (Butler 464).
16
Social constructivism refers to the belief that gender is a construct, shaped by societal and
cultural forces, rather then biologically predetermined through its relationship to sex (the physical
appearance of the body).
17 Lines
25-32 18 Donelan,
211 19 Donelan,
211-212 20 “Gender
is in no way a stable identity or locus of agency from which various acts proceed;
rather, it is an identity tenuously constituted in time – an identity instituted through a stylized
repetition of acts. Further, gender is instituted through the stylization of the body, and, hence,
must be understood as the mundane way in which bodily gestures, movements, and enactments
of various kinds constitute the illusion of an abiding gendered self” (Butler 462).
21 In
her review of Page, Hofkosh argues: “This feminization is theorized as a paradigm shift
from the model of the egotistical sublime and its solitary revelations in the early Wordsworth, to a
19
later interest in the concept of the beautiful associated with domesticity and a supportive
community of women” (Hofkosh 448). 22 “I
saw her singing at her work” (line 27 – emphasis added) 23 Emphasis
added 24 Donelan,
208 25 Lines
26 See
29-32 Wordsworth’s “Lucy Gray” for a specific example of a female character inhabiting a
distinctly wilderness space.
20
Bibliography
Butler, Judith. "Performative Acts and Gender Constitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and
Feminist Theory." In Feminist Theory Reader, edited by Carole R. McCann and SeungKyung Kim, 462-73. New York City: Routledge, 2013.
Donelan, James H. "Nature, Music, and the Imagination in Wordsworth's Poetry." In Poetry and
the Romantic Musical Aesthetic, 206-214. New York City: Cambridge University Press, 2008.
Hofkosh, Sonia. "Wordsworth and the Cultivation of Women by Judith W. Page." Review of
Wordsworth and the Cultivation of Women. The Journal of English and Germanic Philology, July
1996.
Jones, Nancy A. “The Rape of the Rural Muse: Wordsworth’s ‘The Solitary Reaper’” in Rape and
Representation, ed. Lynn A. Higgins and Brenda R. Silver, 263-277. New York: Columbia
University Press, 1991
Page, Judith W. Wordsworth and the Cultivation of Women. Berkeley, CA: University of California
Press, 1994.